


A Tale of Three Veterans

by volatile_hearts



Series: Eclectic Tastes Indeed [4]
Category: Doctor Who, Sherlock (TV), Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Writing Exercise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-22
Updated: 2014-06-22
Packaged: 2018-02-05 17:23:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1826215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/volatile_hearts/pseuds/volatile_hearts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Well, this is a bit awkward," Rory says stiffly.</p><p>[4). Threesome, 3, 6, and 9 - John Watson, Rory Williams, and Bobby Singer]</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Tale of Three Veterans

"Well, this is a bit awkward," Rory says stiffly.

He's in a jail cell with two other men. Two sides of the cell are just bars, and the other two are solid walls with metal benches running against their length to meet in the corner forming an L-shape. They are all warily standing around; none quite willing to sit down and place themselves on a lower level than the others. All three of them were found at the scene of a particularly bizarre and gruesome murder.

"Rory Williams, how do you do," he introduces himself trying to break the ice somehow. He isn't supposed the meet up with Amy and the Doctor for another few hours. So they won't know he's missing for another few hours. Which means he's stuck in a tiny, barred dunk-tank with these two strangers for the next several hours.

"John Watson," the shorter man says. He's got sandy blond hair, a color that reminds Rory a bit of the desert for some reason, and hard worn lines on his face. Physically he looks older than Rory, as does the other man who actually has a full, graying beard.

"You're from across the pond, too?" Rory asks, a bit surprised by the accent. They are in the heartland of middle America, so the odds are slim that he'd meet another Englishman here.

"Great," the older man says, "Just my luck to get stuck with two Brits for the night."

John looks like he wants to scowl, as does Rory, but they politely keep the expression in check.

"Bobby Singer," the man grunts. "You folks mind telling me what you were doin' out there tonight?"

"I was... ahh -" Rory gets cut off when John interrupts sharply, "Private investigating. The last victim's mother hired us."

John's eyes are narrowed, and he's staring at Bobby with a mixture of suspicion and curiosity.

Bobby frown from underneath his hat, before staying, "Sylvia Montenegro?"

John nods tightly.

"Wait, you both know Sylvia?" Rory asks.

"Spoke to her yesterday," Bobby says gruffly, "What are you doing here?"

"A friend in the area was worried. Called in a - a friend... of mine, and asked if we could help," Rory finished lamely. "Why were you there?" he asks quickly before they can start asking about his supposed friend. Explaining how the TARDIS randomly dropped them here was not on his list of top ten things to-do.

"M'boys got themselves into a spot of trouble," Bobby says defensively, "Thought I could help them out."

Bobby stares at them menacingly. Every now and then 2,000 years of experience comes in real handy. Like now, when people might be lying to his face. Bobby's not lying per say; he's telling the truth or at least some version of it. John is telling the truth as well but not the whole truth either. They're all hiding something, but Rory has a feeling Bobby knows more about what's going on here than the rest of them. If the grave tenacity in his eyes is anything to go by.

"Trouble?" The suspicion on John's face has been completely replaced by confusion and curiosity, "What sort of trouble?"

There is a very long silence and Rory starts wondering if Bobby will actually say anything.

"They've gone missing," Bobby tells them finally.

"Wait, are they the latest victims?" Rory asks.

"Why wasn't this on the news?" John demands. He sounds angry, but there's something like worry just beneath the surface. "Why didn't you report this?"

"Because!" Bobby bursts out, "My boys are good kids, but they got a lot of trouble with the law. You think I'm gonna call in the cops to help just so they can take them away when they find him?" he says accusingly, looking between the other two, "I'll find them my own goddamn self. And you boys better stay out of this. Don't know what you're dealing with."

He moves to go sit down on the metal bench against the wall.

"I can take care of myself well enough," Rory says, a little bit of that Roman soldier showing through his stance.

"Son," Bobby starts derisively, folding his arms and tilting his head at Rory, "I don't care what kind of war you've been through, this ain't no terrorist shootin' at you. You're in over your head."

"Sorry," John interrupts brusquely, "You were in a war?"

"No," Rory answers. He's been in several, just not the one John is asking about.

"That's a bunch of malarkey," Bobby says, "I know a soldier when I see one, and both of you are soldiers. So cut the crap, and stay out of this."

"What do you know?" Rory asks sternly.

"None of yer damn business," Bobby practically growls.

"I'm pretty sure it's my business. My friends are out there waiting for me." Rory watches Bobby carefully for a reaction. "Looking for that thing as we speak."

"Thing?" John asks confusedly, "Don't you mean person?" He tries to suggest instead.

But Bobby is ignoring John. He's staring back at Rory just as intensely, but now he's looking at him less like an uncultured idiot and more like someone worth paying attention to.

"What are you sayin'?" Bobby asks carefully.

It's a test. Rory knows it. His eyes flick briefly to John. This might not end well, if John has no real idea of what's going on. Rory takes a leap of faith.

"Your boys, they're brothers, right?" Rory says.

Bobby doesn't say anything, but his silence is answer enough.

"Something out there is abducting siblings and then killing them," Rory pushes, "And you know what it is."

There is still a hint of confusion on John's face, but the way he is ignoring it and intently listening to Rory and Bobby instead of loudly demanding answer tells Rory is must be used to being left in the dark. There's a certain acceptance a person develops when they're constantly chasing after the only person who does know what' going on, but won't tell you. Rory sympathizes.

Bobby still hasn't said anything. Rory gives a little bit more, knowing he' risking sounding insane if he's wrong about Bobby.

"Something … not human."

Bobby's eyes widen. For a split second, Rory thinks he gambled on the wrong hunch, but suddenly recognizes the look in Bobby's eyes. It's not surprise tinged with fear; it's surprise at finding someone else who knows the bigger picture. Know the world is much much larger than what's seen on the surface.

"Maybe you can handle yourself," Bobby says approvingly. He leans forward a bit to see if any of the police or station workers are nearby by. He waves his hand at Rory, in a quick come here, motion.

"You can't be serious?" John says, just a little bit desperately, looking between the two of them. Bobby stares at John unimpressed, and Rory sort of shrugs his shoulders in apology as he goes to sit in the corner next to Bobby where the two benches meet.

"Oh my god, you're serious," John mutters softly, running his hands over his face. He looks critically at Bobby before saying, "All right. Let's hear it. What's killing these people?"

"The fae," Bobby says.

"What."

Rory can't help but mirror John's sentiment.

"Fae? As in fairies?" Rory asks. It wouldn't be the weirdest things he's come across.

"I hardly think Tinkerbell is murdering full grown men and women," John says bitingly.

"I hate Disney," Bobby says under his breath before speaking up, "No, like the fae in Grimm fairy tales. The kind that steal children and cook them just for kicks and giggles."

"Alright," Rory says slowly, trying to defuse the animosity, "Do you know why?"

"Some dumbass construction company is developing in the local woods. They tore out a patch of wild rose bushes about 3 weeks back."

"That was when the disappearances started," Rory says and Bobby nods.

"What do rose bushes have to do with anything?" John says aggravated. But he's stepped closer, and isn't talking as loud.

"Ever read the original Beauty and Beast?" Bobby asks John, "Or Tam Lin?"

"No," John responds.

"In the old stories, picking a rose summons the ruler of the place," Bobby explain, "But that's only part true. It sends a message to the fae that live within the area, usually the message is somewhere only the lines of someone is trespassing."

"So tearing out an entire bush is like declaring war," Rory finishes.

"The Ainsel Brothers & Co. have got a giant red target painted on their backs," Bobby says.

"But not everyone who died worked there." Rory points out.

"I have no idea why they're taking siblings," Bobby relents. Clearly frustrated.

"Maybe," John says, looking at the floor in concentration, "They confused the name of the construction company with actual brothers."

Rory and Bobby are staring at John.

"What?"

"That makes sense," Bobby says slowly, "Fae have never been known for interpreting human customs very well."

"Huh," John says, clearly mulling over the possibility that fairies exist.

They're silent for a few minutes. Before Rory speaks up, "So... now what?"

"Got a pack of cards?" Bobby suggests.

"I do," John says, pulling a white box covered in red pattern out of his jacket pocket. He sits down next to Rory on the metal, and starts to tap out the deck.

"Know any three player games?" Rory asks.

"Anybody against with five-card draw?"

When the guard passes by them again, he's a bit surprised to see the detainees getting along so well. Normally, at this point, they would have had to break up several fights, but the three men that had been picked up were in the corner playing cards, and telling what the guard could only assume were some really strange ghost stories.

**Author's Note:**

> threesome: n. a game or activity for three people.


End file.
